Daughter Death
by frodoschick
Summary: There have always been two sides to Death...
1. Daughter Death

Don't know where this idea came from, but here it is!

* * *

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Simple as that.

* * *

Charlie lay in his hospital bed, breathing with the help of a breathing tube. Nurses and doctors checked his progress with grim eyes. His wife always came and sat next to him, always. She always had a smile on her face, even though he could see the pain in her eyes. He always told her that he was alright and not to worry. He could tell that she didn't believe him, but he had to tell her something, didn't he? His children came too, after their classes and sports clubs, wowing him with tales of dazzling grades and heroics on the fields of lacrosse and football. He smiled at them, so proud of his son and daughter.

It was deep in winter when he saw the strange girl walking the hospital floor. She was dressed very nicely, blue and black skirt with a black blouse. Her hair was black and she wore small earrings. She was there at all hours, not just visiting hours. She wasn't always on his floor, she disappeared for weeks at a time. Sometimes he saw her outside the hospital, looking up. The strangest thing was that no-body else seemed to see her. She could walk right by doctors and nurses without causing a fuss. He supposed it was because she was so quiet.

His cancer got worse. He didn't need anyone to tell him that. He could see it in his wife's eyes, hear it in his children's voices, feel it in his gut. He started to get horrid headaches, the likes of which could only be killed with a shot of morphine. He couldn't eat anymore, talking was a strain. The doctors did all they could, but at the end of the day, their eyes were still grim.

Then one day, he saw that mysterious girl throwing a punkish boy out of the hospital and yelling at him on the side-walk. The boy was wearing all black, with skull engraved belt and piercings covering his ears. He also had a tattoo of the ace symbol on his neck. Tattoos were better than calling cards, he always said. He said that if his children wanted to get tattoos, better get 'em in a place that no-one could see 'em. The boy smirked and left. The girl was red in the face. He didn't think that she would have been capable of yelling at any-one. It strange, however. None of the walkers in and out of the hospital had looked twice at the boy and girl screaming at each other in the front of the doors.

The doctors came into his room then and he submitted to the now ritual tests and such. They wouldn't tell anyone any different. The doctors left and the girl came in after they left.

"Didn't they see you?" he asked, his voice sounding strange with the breathing tube.

"No." she said quietly. "They are unable to."

"Why?" he asked, as she sat in a chair beside him.

"They are too full of life." she replied. That puzzled him.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

"You are able to see me because you are close to Death." she said, almost hesitantly.

"Death?" he whispered.

"Yes. I have come to your passing easier."

"I am to die?"

"What's with all the questions?" she laughed. "Sorry, a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood."

He chuckled once. She sighed. "I am Daughter Death." she said, looking down at her folded hands. "I make the passing easy and painless for those whose time has come."

He sighed. "I knew it. That cancer got me at last, didn't it." he tried a smile, but it wouldn't come.

"It's not your fault." she was quick to assure. "You fought it as long you could. But your body just can't hold up to your spirit anymore. You remind me of cowboys and horses for some reason."

"Grew up in the west." he replied, his green eyes looking at the ceiling. "Actually grew up on a ranch. Dad always taught me well, schoolin' first, then chores. Got my law degree in New York. Met Margaret. Got married. Founded a law firm. Now, I've got a house in the suburbs with a swimmin' pool. You should see my Dad's eyes light up when he visits. He can hardly believe his son did so well. Heck, neither can his son!"

Daughter Death smiled. "I knew you reminded me of the Old West, with all it's adventures and wild times."

"You were there?"

"No...but I've read a lot of novels and I hear my Grandfather's stories."

"He was there, then?"

"Yes! He was there, with all the greats and the Alamo and all that!"

"Grandfather Death?"

"No! Grandfather Time."

"Figures. Good fictional family, huh?"

"Yes, Grandfather Time, Mother Earth, Grandmother Sky, Father Sun."

"Who was that punkish kid you tossed out?"

For the first time, her eyes clouded and her brow wrinkled. "Brother Death." she said and obviously she hated him with all of her heart.

"Brother Death?"

"My twin brother. As much as I am gentle and kind, he is violent and cruel. He is behind the child that falls into the street in front of a car. He is the attack in the heart. I wish that it were only me, but there have always been two sides of Death."

"I see." he said, still not looking directly at her.

"Please don't be afraid." she said, standing up. "I will not harm you." She kissed him gently on the forehead and then turned away. "Farewell, Charles Fogarty. You shall truly be blest."

* * *

Something I came up with while walking my dog. No idea why...Still, enjoy!!


	2. Brother Death

Don't know where this idea came from, but here it is!

* * *

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Simple as that.

* * *

Kelly McFarson was a spunky girl of fifteen. She could shoot a three-point shot from half-court, kick a soccer goal with four others surrounding her and throw a softball to second base just as the other girl left first base. She could walk straight up to the school bully and look him straight in the eye. She had good grades, she was the pride of her science class. There was only one thing she really didn't understand.

Her mom and shopping.

It was a sunny Saturday in the middle of softball season and she was being dragged into the JcPenny's by her mom. She held a baseball in hands.

"Why did you have to bring that in?" demanded her mother, as she glared at it.

"It's the only way that you'll remember that I have a softball game at 3:00, Mom." Her mom huffed and started dragging her to the escalators.

"Why are we here, again?" Kelly asked, pulling her hand free of her mom's and walking behind her.

"You know perfectly well why. That David Johnson asked you to that charity dance and I said that you would go. We're here to get you a proper dress. You can't wear that old skirt of yours that you've been stretching out for four years."

"Told you I didn't want to go." Kelly muttered. "Can you pick out a dress for me and find me in the Junior's Department? I want to check out their Arizona tank tops." Her mom considered this for a moment, then agreed. She disappeared up the escalator, and Kelly went to the Junior's Department. The tops were on sale and she actually tried two of them on.

She was wandering around, pulling out t-shirts and looking at them when she noticed two strange men walking up to the cashier, with purchases from other stores and loose clothes in their hands. She thought that it was rather strange for two men to buy things in the Junior's Department. She continued to watch them.

Suddenly, they yanked guns out from the other shopping bags and one got in the cashier's face, the other pointed the gun at the other customers (which included two teenage girls and and old lady passing through).

"Don' ya say anythin'." said the second man who had hair like a bird. "Nobody says nothin', nobody gets hurt. Sit down, alla you!" The two teenage girls sat, rubbing eyes and sniffing. The old lady had a harder time. She looked about for a chair.

"Just sit on that display." Bird-head snarled, pointing the gun directly at her. The old lady sat. The cashier started handing over all the cash in the register.

'_They haven't seen me..._' thought Kelly, still ducked behind the tank top shelves. '_Maybe I can do something..._' She spied through the clothes, waiting for an opprotune moment. She didn't even know what she was going to do.

Suddenly, the one without the bag, starting turning towards his buddy. Kelly dodged out from behind the clothes rack and threw the baseball with all the strength that she had. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw security guards starting to run down the isles. Her baseball hit the gunamn on the side of the head. He jerked. In another second, there was an explosion and she was on the ground, pain blossoming in the center of her body.

Swallowing, her hands clutched over the center of the pain, she pulled her head up. Blood was blooming over her hands, flowing out of her body. She screamed, a sound echoing over the shouts of security guys and the grunts of the bad guys as they were tackled to the ground. As she leaned back and stared at the ceiling, tears starting to drip from her eyes, the world started to slow down. The edges of her vision grew foggy. Shouts diminshed and sounds were muted.

Her eyes caught sight of a boy sitting next to her. He was punkish, all dressed in black with skulls in his ears and belt. He had a nose piercing. And at least five earrings.

"Did they call the paramedics?" she asked. It hurt to speak, it seemed almost as if she didn't have enough air to make her vocals.

"Yeah. Won't do you any good though." he said, popping some gum that he was chewing.

"Why?" she whispered. This was frightening her. This wasn't real.

"Girl, do you see the blood? That bullet broke four ribs, one of which punctured a lung, severed an artery and lodged in your left heart valve. With every beat of your heart, you are killing yourself."

"How do you know?" she asked. He looked down at her, his eyes unfathomable and dark.

"I am Brother Death. I came because you are dying." His words were true. She could feel it. She felt herself grow colder and she started sobbing harder. "Don't worry. You won't die for a while yet." He stood up, then leaned over and touched her right over the pain. "You won't even loose conciousness in the next seven hours. Hang on for a few hours, make them think they've got a chance of saving you. Then leave them all alone."

She screamed, loud and long.

* * *

He stood at the entrance of JcPenny while they bundled the girl up into the ambulance and the gunmen in the back of an armored wagon. He smiled. Another day's work done. Maybe he'd pop in on his sister again, maybe he'd try to sneak by her at that hospital again.

Who knew where the day would go from here? His watch beeped. Another? Already? Shoot! He wanted to kill time in the food court...Oh well. If he didn't go, Dad would get on his case.

He looked after the departing ambulance and simply vanished.

* * *

Please review and tell me what you think!


	3. Confrontation

Don't know where this idea came from, but here it is!

* * *

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Simple as that.

* * *

Daughter Death paced her room. Where was that brother of hers? He was causing harmful mischief again, and she just would not stand for it! She was the elder sibling, it was her responsibility! He was like a child the way he acted. So immature. She sighed heavily. Stupid boys...!

A door slammed from the other end of the hall. She took a deep breath, and walked out of her room. She marched down the hall and banged on her brother's bedroom door.

"Brother, I must speak with you!"

The only answer was the hideous rock music that blared from his speakers. She growled. She closed her eyes, concentrated. The speakers blew out with a crackle. Stomps..._BAM!_ His door almost flew off its hinges.

"Why the Hell did you do that?! That's my fifth pair of speakers this month!" demanded her brother, glaring with his cold black eyes.

She opened her black eyes. "I need to speak with you."

"Since when do you not want to lecture me?" he snapped, shoving his hands inside his pockets and leaning against his door-frame. "Stupid Sound power of yours...only seems to be good for eavesdropping and blowing out my speakers."

"It's a lot more useful than your power to Charm." she snapped, hating his attitude. "What does it matter if you can change your appearance?" Her brother snorted.

"Yeah, whatever. What do you want?" he demanded, glaring. She glared right back.

"You know that you are not supposed to be causing anyone else harm when they are not supposed to be passing on! How dare you cause that young man's heart-attack?! You do not-!"

"Ahh, what's the big deal? He lived, didn't he?" said Brother, his eyes glinting with malice.

"Yes." she snarled. "But he went through so much...the Human body is a delicate instrument. It is not-!"

"A toy." the boy intoned monotonously. "Yeah, we seem to have had this talk before, haven't we?"

"Then why have you learned nothing?" she snapped, restraining her hand from slapping him soundly. He looked at her, from her black hair tied back in a bouncy pony-tail, to the black peasent top and pleated skirt, to her black sandals with the silver buckles. She practically screamed "Good-Girl".

"You really can't scare me." he said, smirking. "You look more like a cheerleader than a Grim Reaper." She trembled with rage.

"If you do not control your behavior, I will go to Father and he will."

Brother froze. "You wouldn't."

"Just try me." she snarled, her eyes completely truthful. Brother snarled, then slammed the door, barely missing her toes. She breathed out, then walked back to her room. Her crystals glimmered with the candle-light as she opened her door. She sat down on her yoga mat, breathing in and out. Her brother...She hated him. Why did he have to cause pain? Why couldn't he just do his job? Another episode like that and they would both be put on probation. The problem with her brother was...he didn't care. He was the Human equivalent of a delinquent. She sighed again. Why did there have to be two sides of Death...?

--

Brother was furious. How dare his sister threaten him with Father?! Just cause she was older! Godd--mit! He slammed his door again, unable to do mcuh else in his current rage.

"Little brat..." he muttered, grabbing his iPod, shoving the buds in his ears and blasting his favorite songs. As he listened, his hair grew longer, his eyes grew wilder and his skin got paler. He grinned wickedly, then started screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, just because it would bug Sister.

With another crackle, his speakers blew again, issuing a grating feedback that lasted for two minutes. Wisely, he stopped his 'singing'. He was pulling his earbuds out when his watch '_beep'_ed. He looked at it. Great...another person. He sighed as he disappeared, teleporting himself to the bedside of one Uriah Hill. Dude was so stoned, he didn't even notice. Brother snarled. He hated getting the stoners. They never felt the pain...

--

Daugher sighed with relief as she felt her brother's presense vanish. Thank the goddess...She wouldn't have been able to stand him much longer. She jumped as her watch '_beep_'ed. She sighed as she disappeared, going to the home of one Julia McDonald. Poor girl...she had suffered from depression and loneliness too long. Julia sat in her room, a prescription bottle in her hands, the glass of water spilled on the floor.

"It's alright, Julia." said Daughter, catching Julia before she fell to the ground. "It won't hurt anymore."

"Who are you?" whispered Julia as her eyes started closing for the last time.

"Daughter Death. I'll make sure that it won't hurt anymore."

"Tell my mom I'm sorry."

"Of course. Sleep now..."

* * *

Review for me, peeps! Please...?


	4. Two Paths

Don't know where this idea came from, but here it is!

* * *

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Simple as that.

* * *

Daughter Death knocked gently upon her Grandfather's sitting room door. She wanted to visit him. She must be feeling this way because of the two daughters she just left grieving or the family weeping beside the body of their beloved grandmother. She had even made that passing beautiful, asking her Grandmother for an opening in the sky, so the family could pretend that their Grandmother had ascended to Heaven as an Archangel. She felt heavy, tired. She wanted to talk.

The aged oak door slowly creaked open and her Grandfather smiled down on her. "Granddaughter..." He smiled, reaching out and wrapping his thin yet strong arms about her. "My darling granddaughter."

"Grand-papa!" She smiled, hugging him back, burying her face in his long white beard. "How I've missed you."

"I've missed your presence." He nodded, pulling her gently into his sitting room. She always loved this place, full of odds and ends, monuments and maps. She ran her fingers lovingly along the back of his pet lion, sleeping at the foot of his chair. His eagle raised it's head for a moment, gave a gentle screech and tucked itself away again under his wing. "What can I do for you, child?"

"I-I just wanted to visit..." She said quietly, sitting down in the chair beside his, leaning closer to him as he sat. "I really wanted to."

He nodded understandingly. "It's getting hard, isn't it, my dear?"

She nodded, feeling the pain and the heaviness weigh her down. His arms wrapped about her shoulders and she inhaled the smell of pine chips. "It hurts."

"I know. You are the kindest of us all, my dear. You do so many good things."

"Then why does it hurt so much?" She asked, trying not to cry.

"Because your heart feels for each and every soul that you've released, for every breath that you've eased." He gently soothed as he held her. "Because you can feel the pain and you are the only one who can ease it."

"And he's the only one who causes the pain..." She whispered. "He's getting worse..."

Grandfather nodded quietly. "His hourglass is getting more cracked. If he doesn't settle down, it will break."

She shuddered. "And I have to help him, right?"

He sighed. "I didn't want to put this on your shoulders. You are young and should only be helping those who need you. But your brother-"

She pulled away. "I know, I'm the only one who can save him." She stood and walked towards the door. "Just like every single other time."

He sighed as she quietly walked out, out to face the destiny that had always followed her. He stood, his room seeming to move him to a different door, that when he opened, was full of hourglasses. Some small, almost miniscule, while others stretched out into the deep spaces of the towering room. All filled with different sands, all different, just like each person on this earth. He walked to one covered in spades and aces, so cracked that the glass could barely hold back the black sand. Beside it was one gently glowing white, preserved perfectly. Their hourglasses. His grand-children. How many times had this happened?

He ran his loving hand over her granddaughter's glass, knowing that soon it would not glow and would not heal. The sands were almost gone.

* * *

Daughter Death sat in her room, wiping at her eyes. She went for compassion, she came back with the awful knowledge that it was happening again. She tried to make her ears hear only her dear white noise so her soul would soothe, but all she could hear was that dratted rock music and he wasn't even here. She shook as her emotions started taking her over again and she bent over, tears leaking from her eyes fast and hot. She hated crying, it made her feel so weak.

She had to be strong. She was always strong. Her brother was the weak one, the volitile one! She was supposed to be strong...why was she weak? She could feel her brother at the edge, wavering, shaking, red with his hate and his love of pain. Maybe she wouldn't do it this time. Maybe she could just let him destroy himself, throw away everything that he has. It's his path, he has to walk it!

She sat up a little straighter for a moment, then slumped back down. She knew, that when push came to shove, she'd be the one to bite the bullet, to throw herself under the bus, to save her ungrateful brother. It always happened that way? Why fight her own path?

She stood and started getting ready for her day as her watch beeped again. The one to pass name flew to her mind instantly. Josh Harper. Car accident. Football player who was driving and hit by a drunk driver. She sighed. Another statistic. Another full page in the yearbook. She was getting tired. Running a brush through her hair one last time, she melded away.

* * *

Brother Death stalked down the Red Light District of his favorite city, grinning as the women fainted when he walked by, enjoying this new-found power of pain and fatigue that eminated from his core. He didn't even have to kill people anymore, he could just walk around and make people suffer. This was the greatest gift he had ever been given. He didn't even notice his Grandfather watching him from the shadows of an alley, his eyes deep with his pain and suffering. He could not prevent any of this...

Brother Death stalked abroad, walking down a rue in Paris, barely touching a man on the shoulder. The man convulsed in front of his date, his girlfriend of three years, and collapsed on the pavement. Dead. Brother Death laughed harshly as the woman found the engagement ring clutched in the man's hand and wailed hysterically into the night. This was new. This was power! He laughed, strolling away and working his evil magic across the city. Behind him, riots broke out, people hurt each other and even killed.

He was getting more powerful with every second! This was far more power than his weak little sister had ever dreamed of, had even thought to imagine! His face contorted evilly as he thought he should go pay his dear, nosy, stupid, slow, little pain in the ass sister a visit...


End file.
